The Memoires of Shelagh Turner
by Lady Allana Solo
Summary: Half of Season 2 onward from Shelagh's perspective. Something I've been playing around with for a while.
1. Season 2 Episode 6

Disclaimer: All rights go to the real Jennifer Worth and Heidi Thomas.

_ In 1957 if anyone told me I would leave the Order and marry, I would not have believed them. But all of that was going to change in a year's time. I was content with my vocation, and I loved teaching the others from my experiences, but 1958 as a whole changed my life, and that is where I shall begin. _

_ I should probably give you some background, although you probably know some of it. I came to the Order of St. Raymond Nonnatus in 1948 right after passing my nursing exams. And I felt the Call while I was studying. I always loved little ones. I was the one who acted like her dolls were real babies when I was younger, although I was the youngest and was not mimicking Mum, but I did have a few younger cousins I grew up with. _

_ It started at the antenatal clinic right after Jenny's birthday that year, although to be honest, I couldn't stop thinking about him for some time before that. Trixie made some comment about Patrick dressing poorly and Timmy looking unkempt, and I scolded her for talking so poorly of them. He dressed comfortably, and it was probably hard to figure out how to parent Timothy on his own. Kenna did much better than Timmy did, but she is a few years older. The next Tuesday, I was the one to sew the button back on Patrick's surgical coat. _

_ But it really began in June of that year. We had a TB case at the maternity home, and Sister Julienne was supposed to come with him to a medical board meeting to plead for an x-ray van in Poplar, but she couldn't make it. I gladly volunteered. We convinced them, and that is where our story truly begins. _

"Doctor Turner." Sister Bernadette entered the small clinical room.

"Sister." He answered.

"What a day we've had." She beamed.

"Indeed." He replied

"Is all well?" She asked

"Would you mind sitting?" He gestured toward one of the chairs.

"Of course." She sat, and he slid a card to her.

"This has my name on it."

"Yes, the lesions are small, but there are more than one."

"I see. How many?" She asked.

"Doctor McGuiness counted nine or ten in the upper lobe…. Have you had any symptoms?" "No, a little breathlessness, maybe." He reached for her hand and squeezed it.

"Doctor, you know I can't…. I have to go_." _She rushed out the door and ran toward the chapel. It was time to think and to pray.

Sister Julienne waited for the doctor to knock on her door. He looked so frantic, so hopeless when he asked to speak with Sister Bernadette.

"How did it go, Doctor? Is she all right?"

"I don't know, Sister, I told her the diagnosis, and she ran off."

"It's quite understandable. Her grandfather died of TB when she was a teenager; she was rather close to him. A few years later she came to us as a postulant after completing her training as a nurse. You have a lot to learn."

"Sister?"

"I can see the way you look at each other. Midwifery and medicine was all she knew growing up; her father is a doctor in Scotland, and her mother is a retired midwife. And she loves children; she's a natural. I see the look on her face when she gives a baby to its mother; she doesn't want to let go. "

"I've noticed it too. And she's really good with Kenna and Tim. What is her given name?"

"Shelagh Mannion." Sister Julienne replied.

"As in Doctor Mannion?" He asked.

"Yes, that's right. You went to help when he had to take some time off and lived with them for a while. Fifteen years ago, correct?"

"Yes. I didn't realize it was her, but now I can see it now. I should have known when we delivered the Carter twins. It was something she said. "

"I'll go to her and see what comfort I can offer. You've already called the Sanatorium, I assume?"

"Yes. And I'll driver her over. They contacted the London and ordered a more detailed x-ray for tomorrow morning."

The chapel was a place of comfort and togetherness, but it was deserted. Sister Bernadette sat on one of the chairs with her head in her hands.

"Sister, what's the matter?" Sister Julienne sat next to her.

"I can't deal with this. It's all coming back, Sister. The hospital, knowing what will happen next, just waiting for the news. I'm younger than he was…."

"It's going to be okay;_ you're_ going to be okay. _" _ She wrapped her arms around the younger woman. "We've already spoken to the Sanatorium; you're going to fight this and win. It's clear to see He has a purpose for you beyond this. "

"Sister?" She asked.

"I can't claim to know His will fully, but I do know you are going to make it through. They caught it early, and you were healthy otherwise. Doctor Turner is taking you for the more advanced x-ray tomorrow and then to St. Anne's. Get some rest. God be with you. "

"And you as well." Sister Bernadette replied. She rose and began to leave. "Sister?"

"Yes?" Julienne replied.

"Do you have all my medical records?" She asked.

"I have them on file. And, Sister, remember He won't give us more than we can bear."

She entered the kitchen. "What's this I hear about you and the doctor_? _Trixie insisted.

"Don't mind Trixie. Are you all right?" Cynthia asked

"Something was amiss on a few of the x-rays. Mine was among them."

"I'm so sorry, Sister." Cynthia hugged her.

"It's quite all right; I'm going to the Sanatorium for the Triple Treatment. Doctor Turner is driving me over for a better x-ray tomorrow. He insisted. I don't want to be a bother to anyone."

"You're not a bother at all, Sister!" Cynthia cried. At that exact moment the phone rang, and Trixie went to answer it.

"Are you really okay, Sister?" Jenny finally asked. "Do you need anything?"

"Prayers for my recovery. Letters would be nice too; I would like to know what happens in my absence."

"Of course. We'll even come to visit."

"Sounds lovely."

The nuns rose at the usual time the next morning. Sister Bernadette joined them for the last time before she left. As they rose, Sister Evangelina stopped her. " You're going to fight this and come back stronger than ever. Get plenty of rest, and for Heaven's sake, don't be hard on yourself. "

"Sister, I… I'll try not to." She exited the convent doors to the car.


	2. Season 2 Episodes 7 & 8

Disclaimer: Still do not own. I borrow from the library.

A.N. I know I combined parts of Episode 7 and Episode 8 together; I wanted to keep most of the original dialogue from one scene so inserted Patrick's lapse in memory. Enjoy!

_ The next few months passed slowly. I remember reading a lot and journaling. I still have the journals now, and it's strange to look back at the nurses' visits and rereading Timothy's letters. I pasted them into my journals after I received them. Although I didn't return Patrick's letters during that time, I wrote about them, trying to make sense of my feelings. _

"How is everyone?" Sister Bernadette asked.

"They're all perfectly fine," Trixie replied, "but frankly we'd had enough of this sanatorium business. We'd like you to come home! And with Chummy coming back, it will be like old times again."

"I'm not exactly sure if it will. I'm still recovering, and mission work changes people's perspective." She responded.

"We all miss you, and the work you do. Everybody's asking where you are. What was in that box the Turner boy asked me to give you?"

"It's a butterfly. He asked me to have the doctors take a look at it and see what it died of."

"It looks like a pin." Trixie commented.

"No, he said he found it dead before that, and I believe him. "

"The doctor's been asking how you are. If you ask me, he's acting a little too concerned for a colleague and your physician. "

"He's just being nice."

"Oh, and there's most of one of Mrs. B.'s cakes in there. Sister Monica Joan spared a few slices the journey."

"Sounds like her. As Sister Evangelina used to say, if she offers you cake in your first week, it's a ruse."

"Or Marie Antoinette's let them eat cake."

Later that night Sister Bernadette opened her book and realized a letter slipped out. She turned it over and stared at the return address.

The next morning, Sister Bernadette still had a lot on her mind. "May I call and arrange for a visitor, please?" She asked.

"I'll make the call myself," the nurse replied.

"Sister, I have to be honest with you. I've been lying to everyone. To you, to God, to myself."

"I knew we weren't done talking the other day, and I've noticed He's leading you down a different path. Remember, we take what we've learned on every path and still put it to good use. The path you're about to take can be a difficult one. Know that we are all here for you, anytime you need us. We are still your family." Sister Julienne said firmly. "And you are welcome to join us in chapel anytime."

"Sister, how will we explain? I mean, will they actually understand why?"

"Things like this do happen; think of this as reverse of your petulancy. Remember, we hold onto possessions in trust for your lifetime or until God calls you to take a different role. It has happened in other orders too. Just because you are no longer a Sister does not mean you are not our sister. "

"Thank you." She said.

A week passed, and Sister Julienne found herself sitting in St. Anne's. "Almond sponge!" Sister Bernadette declared, opening the cake tin Sister Julienne gave her.

"Mrs. B. also made you a cherry slam, but Sister Monica Joan decided to spare it the journey." Sister Julienne explained. Sister Bernadette giggled.

"Sister," She started excitedly, "I had a set of x-rays yesterday, and I responded so well to the Triple Treatment that I no longer have active disease! I am going to be discharged next week to convalesce at home."

"Oh, that is the most wonderful news!" The elder nun could hardly contain her happiness.

"The difficulty is, that I am not exactly certain where my home is or ought to be. " Sister Bernadette said timidly.

"Until you're certain your home is with us, amongst your sisters."

`"Could I trouble you for some clothes?"

"Have you none here?"

"None besides my habit, and I don't think I can wear that now."

She opened the case and looked inside. Everything was as she left it ten years earlier. She ran her hands over the fabric, lifted it to her face and inhaled. It still smelled of her former perfume and looked typical for the time, something practical for a doctor's daughter in the late 40s. It was a little outdated, but it was hers.

The outfit still fit but felt tight after wearing a habit for so long. Sister Bernadette was unrecognizable. Shelagh started to emerge once more.

"Are you ready?" The nurse asked.

"Yes."

The phone rang in the surgery. "Hello?"

"I've been discharged." He heard a familiar voice on the other end.

"Sister Bernadette?" He asked.

"I was supposed to g to Chichester, but I won't ." She said.

"Why is that?" He asked.

She drew a shaky breath, "I thought I was in the wrong place; I wasn't. I was just living the wrong life." She explained.

He seized his chance. "I wrote to you."

"Yes," she replied.

"I don't know if I said too much or not enough."

"You said what was necessary, and I am coming back to Poplar." She confirmed.

"When?"

"Today. There are procedures to be gone through." She knew he'd understand.

"But it will be months before you're fit. You need to rest and convalesce. "

"I've had enough resting, and I know my mind better than I have for the past few months. You know doctors and nurses make the worst patients. I'm on my way to catch the bus." She insisted.

"You are not traveling thirty miles on a public transport. Sister Bernadette!" He recognized the over protective tone coming through.

"Forgive me, but I do not answer to that name anymore."Se practically snapped. Chummy stood at the door.

"Can I help you?" He placed his hand over the receiver.

"Could you take a look at Dolly Smart?" She asked.

"One moment." He returned to the phone, "I'm sorry, duty calls."

"I understand." She replied and placed the receiver back on the cradle. Shelagh choked back a sob. He wasn't making it any easier.

Shelagh found herself walking down a dirt path after catching the wrong bus. A truck passed by, but nothing else. She took a deep breath and continued walking.

Patrick finished instructions with Dolly and rushed out of the mothers' home and sped for the car. Once inside, he noticed Timothy was inside.

"I thought you were washing the equipment." He said.

"I finished," Timothy defended himself then added, "and you promised me half a crown. I thought I'd come with you on your rounds."

"I'm not going on my rounds," he explained and started the ignition.

"Where are you going then?" Timothy asked.

"I'm going to pick up Sister Bernadette. She's coming home, and we need her to be safe. The buses could re infect her."

She didn't see them driving down the road until the last possible moment. She set down her suitcase. He exited the car and ran to greet her, automatically reaching for her forehead. "What if it started raining? What if you'd gotten lost?"

"I was lost," she replied, "I got on the wrong bus." He took off his coat and draped it around her shoulders.

"I was on the right road." He said.

"Yes. I know you so little, but I couldn't be more certain."

"I'm not completely certain," He searched for her name. He remembered it a few months ago, but he couldn't quite remember it, staring into her eyes. "I don't know your name."

"Shelagh," she stated. He mentally kicked himself; of course, Scotland.

"Patrick," he responded.

"There, we've made a start." She said. He led her back to the car. Timothy practically fell into the back seat.

"Sister Bernadette, you look different!" Timothy exclaimed.

"I'm not a Sister anymore; God called me down a different path." She replied. "This is the way I used to look, several years ago."

"I remember." Patrick said.

"You didn't know me then…wait, you were the one who helped my dad out?"

"Yes."

"I remember. And if you recall, I was trying to break free from that life when you were there. I needed to get away from my parents, from Scotland really. They needed to learn to live without me there. I needed to live my life, not theirs. The funny thing is, I've come back to it in a way." Shelagh started to blink back tears and changed the subject. "Why didn't Kenna come with you? Shouldn't it be her break too?"

"She's with her friends dreaming about boys," Timothy provided. "It's disgusting. Who would want to go anywhere with a girl anyway?"

"That's enough, Tim." Patrick warned.

"She's only a year older than me; it's not right." They rode in silence until they reached Nonnatus House.

Shelagh stopped by the church hall the next Tuesday afternoon; she was welcomed home warmly, but she still needed to adjust. Patrick waited for her in the kitchen.

"I have something for you." He handed her the parcel.

She carefully untied the string and unfolded the paper. "Please, will you marry our dad?" She read aloud and glanced up at Patrick. She opened the box and smiled as he took the ring and placed it on her finger. He brought her hand up to his face and kissed it.


	3. Christmas Special Part I

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the books or the episodes.

_ The days leading up to Christmas Eve that year were exciting in more ways than one. Chummy made my dress, and most of the nurses agreed to be my bridesmaids. My parents were due to arrive the day before the wedding. All of Poplar was getting ready for Christmas itself. The Sunday school was getting their concert ready. The outdoor market was full of trees; the Polio vaccinations were under way. We didn't expect anything to happen, but we never do when it strikes. _

Shelagh opened her door after the first knock. "Yes?"

"A bomb site was discovered; we have to go to the emergency shelter." The land lady instructed.

"Of course," Shelagh replied and gathered her things.

Patrick opened the front door."Shelagh?"

"I'm sorry to wake you. Is there any room at the inn?" She inquired. "The Leopold Institute is a little too far away for me to travel right now."

"Yes, of course." He took her suitcase and brought it inside.

"I don't want to cause a scandal, but I think we might be past that already. "

" Don't worry about what other people say; we're above Poplar gossip. Besides," he added, "everyone else is there. "

"Aunt Shelagh!" Timothy and Kenna bound downstairs. "What are you doing here?"

"Greetings, you two," she started.

"We don't want to worry you," Patrick took over,"they've found a bomb site, and the institute is too far away."

"Don't worry; I'll be on the couch." Shelagh reassured.

"Why don't you stay in my room with me?" Kenna asked.

"That's awfully kind of you but…" Shelagh started.

"Please," she begged. "Mum?"

"I could never replace… you really think of me like that?" She asked.

"We do," Timothy replied. "We will always remember Mummy, but you've always taken care of us afterward and loved us."

She changed into her pajamas and sat on the couch. "The church is still safe," Shelagh continued; "it was the first thing I asked on my way over."

"There's nothing that can get in the way of this wedding; I won't allow it." Patrick said.

"How many more days until the wedding?" Timothy asked.

"Two," Shelagh and Patrick said in unison.

"Isn't it technically one? It's already morning." Kenna asked.

"Good reminder. We'd better get to bed; we have a lot to do tomorrow." Shelagh suggested.

"Good idea." Patrick agreed.

Timothy snuck past his father to the medical bag and searched it for medicine. He tucked his prize into his pajama pocket and headed for the bathroom. He would not miss this wedding.


	4. Christmas Special Part II

"Good morning," She greeted him with a kiss.

"Something smells amazing!" He said. The phone rang. "I better get it."

"Of course." She replied. He came back a few moments later.

"It was Nurse…. It was Chummy. She was wondering if I," he paused, "if we could host the cubs for a while."

"Of course, dear. "

The afternoon pasted swiftly, and the wolf cubs returned to the shelter. The younger Turners were sent to bed early. "Tomorrow." Patrick whispered.

"I know!" Shelagh excitedly whispered back.

The phone rang. "Not again!" Patrick went to answer it. "I'm sorry, it's the rescue center. Jack vomited and collapsed during the middle of the Christmas Concert."

"I'll hold down the fort." Shelagh replied and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Go, we'll be alright. I might as well get used to it now. The odd part will be not going on a case once the phone rings."

Patrick laughed. "Very true."

He leaned against the door. "Polio; we could have an epidemic on our hands. He's been sent to the hospital. The bomb's no longer a threat; everyone was able to go home."

"Thank the LORD!" Shelagh replied.

"I told you I wouldn't allow anything to get in the way of the wedding." He winked. 

"Trixie, I have worn mascara before; it's been a while, but I still remember how to put it on!" Shelagh protested. "I just have trouble with not blinking when it's drying."

"But it's been, what, ten years?"

"Actually, one. I'm not proud of it. That's when I started questioning what God wanted me to do. Remember when I had to go and help back in Scotland last year?"

"Yes, we were short staffed for weeks."

"I had to wear it then; I had to take on the role I had before I left for nursing school. I didn't like it. "

"When are you parents coming?" Jenny changed the subject.

"They came yesterday. I think they went to the rescue center."

"That's right." Cynthia said, "I think they were talking to Sister Julienne and said they'll meet us at the church."

The church was packed.

The small room off the chapel was perfect for getting ready. "There, almost done." Jenny said.

Someone knocked on the door. "Dad; you made it!" She exclaimed.

"Of course we did. You look beautiful, Sweetheart. And I'm happy for you. You know I already approve of him."

"Where's Mum?" She asked.

"She went to collect something she wanted to give you."

"Greetings!" They heard another female Scottish accent.

"Mum!" She went to hug her.

"Careful," her mother cautioned. "I think we have to put this on first."

"Your veil!" She exclaimed.

"I know you always used to say you wanted to wear it. Here, let's put it on straight."

"Ready?" Her father asked.

"Yes," She replied. Shelagh barely remembered any of the ceremony, not even her father whispering, "I know you'll take care of her," to Patrick. The well wishers departed. Shelagh's parents took their new grandchildren to Nonnatus for the night. The couple enjoyed a few hours to themselves and began packing for their honeymoon. Someone rapped on the front door. 

"Dad!" Shelagh was surprised. "Come in! What's going on?"

"It's Timothy. He collapsed. We've already sent for an ambulance. Sister Julienne went with him. She thought it was best since they know her and not me. "

"That was probably a good idea; she's practically adopted him as a grandson; she's been my in case of emergency contact for a few years now." Patrick added.

"I think we've started the epidemic we were trying to avoid." She turned back to her father. "Where is he?" She asked.

"The London," he replied.

"We'll drop you back at Nonnatus on the way." Patrick said. Shelagh started carrying her luggage outside.

"You know we can leave that here." Patrick said.

"We'll need fresh clothes if we're there for a while." She waited for her father to be out of ear shot, "I only packed modest things anyway."

The doors swung open. "Sister Julienne!" Shelagh cried.

"I'm sorry you had to receive the news today of all days. You should all be home getting ready for tomorrow."

"Thank you, Sister." Patrick said. They entered the ward.

"Are you his parents?" The matron asked.

"Yes." They replied.

"The machine is breathing for him; he's not able to breathe on his own."

"I know; I'm his GP too."

"Of course; you sent in the other boy yesterday. He was up a few hours later, giving cheek."

"Timothy," Patrick sobbed, "Timothy…." Shelagh sat down an placed her hand in his.

"Let's take it an hour at a time…" The matron started.

"I know all the facts, but they aren't any help just now." He cut her off. Shelagh squeezed his hand tighter.

"I'll be back." 

She hadn't been in the chapel for a while, but she needed to be a part of it again. The familiar sound of Vespers filled the air. She fit into her old place and continued the song. Sister Monica Joan reached for her hand in support.

"You were right to come here," Sister Julienne commented afterward. "Is there any change?"

"No; the matron was just as bad as the last time was succondered; I don't think she recognized me out of the habit. At least I didn't have to leave his bedside if it would have happened earlier. Where's?" She started to ask.

"In your old room," Julienne supplied. Shelagh walked down the familiar corridor and opened the door.

"Mum. What's going on? What happened to Tim?" The twelve year old asked.

"Oh, Sweetheart," Shelagh gathered her into a hug and kissed her head. "He's not doing well, not yet. We're waiting for him to wake up."

"Where's Dad?" Shelagh recognized the scared tremble in her voice.

"He's still with Tim." She replied.

"Mum, I'm scared."

"I know. I'm staying here tonight. Come with me to the chapel." She wrapped a shawl around her new daughter's shoulders and led her back down the corridor to the carol sing. The candlelight was warm and inviting. Shelagh joined in. Kenna snuggled against her. 

Shelagh rose early the next morning and attempted to leave quietly. Sister Julienne met her on the way and enveloped her in a hug. "I'll let her know where you are. God go with you."

"And you, Sister." She replied.

The ward was quiet. Shelagh walked over and put her arm around Patrick. "How is he?"

"No change." He turned toward her. "I love you."

"Love you too," she sighed. "Get some rest."

"How could we…." He started, "you deserve better than this." He finished.

"It's all right. We're together; that's all that matters. We can celebrate when everyone's better." She sat next to him and started stroking Timothy's hair.

"Are you sure?" He asked.

"Completely certain," she replied. He leaned up against her and closed his eyes. 

"M…..Mummy?" Timothy opened his eyes.

"Patrick!" Shelagh shook her husband awake.

"Wha….?" He started.

"He's awake!"

Most of the Turners sat on the hospital bed.

"Did I miss the wedding?" Timothy asked.

"No." Patrick and Shelagh said in unison. "We'll have pictures to prove it soon." Patrick continued.

"I'm glad." Timothy said. "I love you, Mum."

"Love you too, Tim." Shelagh replied and hugged him.


End file.
